


Remus Lupin and the Prisoner of Azkaban

by Kamemor



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 10:53:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3647622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamemor/pseuds/Kamemor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter wasn't the only one for whom the 1993-4 school year was eventful. Follow Remus Lupin as he returns to Hogwarts, encounters long lost friends and discovers that the staff room is a far more entertaining place than any student ever realised... (Currently on hiatus due to other commitments, but I will be continuing it eventually.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Return to Hogwarts

It was not long after ten o’ clock when Remus Lupin walked into King’s Cross station on the morning of September the first. Passing the pick-up area for luggage trolleys, he glanced down at his battered case and chuckled sadly. The last time he had been in King’s Cross, he had needed a trolley in order to carry all of his school things. Now, almost all his belongings were in this one case, and it was too small to warrant one. How his life had changed in the fifteen years since he had left school.

Well aware that he had arrived early, Remus wandered slowly in the direction of platforms nine and ten, drawing occasional glances from Muggle passers-by. He had long ago mastered dressing like a Muggle due to periods of his life where he had been desperate enough to seek work outside the wizarding community. However, even his most Muggle-friendly clothes were patched and shabby, beyond even his considerable skill with reparatory spells to fix. His obvious poverty tended to draw attention, so he was relieved when he finally passed through the barrier that led to platform nine and three quarters and found the platform almost empty.

The sight of the great scarlet engine of the Hogwarts Express brought back a flood of memories. Remus remembered his first sight of the train, his eleven-year-old self’s awe only slightly mitigating his fears about what would await him at the school he had thought he’d never see. He recalled his excitement in later years as he craned his neck to catch a sight of his friends over the crowd, a task that got easier as the tiny little boy had sprouted more than a foot in height in the space of only a few years. And he remembered the emotional farewells of the last time he had stood on the platform, saying goodbyes to people he had known for the seven best years of his life, promising to stay in touch with people who had died before he had seen them again. It had been a different time, fifteen years ago. A darker time. And Remus’s world had only gotten darker since then.

Catching his thoughts before they could spiral further into that dark place, Remus smiled ruefully and walked towards the far end of the train. Passing a few small knots of parents and students, he had almost reached the end carriage when he heard a voice from behind him.

“Remus? Remus Lupin?” asked a woman. Remus turned around and, after a few seconds, recognised her as Louise Richards, a Ravenclaw girl who had been in his year at Hogwarts. “Yikes, it’s been years. How have you been?” Remus smiled, nodding at the man and the young boy hanging back behind Louise. So many of his former classmates had families of their own now.

“I’ve been alright, thanks. How’s life treated you?”

“Good, yeah. Got married, had a kid, life’s great. What about you? I’m guessing you’ve got a sprog of your own?” Louise asked, quirking her eyebrows mischievously. Remus grinned. He had been unsurprised when Louise and Sirius had started going out in their sixth year. They had had a similarly irreverent sense of humour.

“No, actually,” he chuckled. Louise looked puzzled, obviously wondering what Remus was doing there if he wasn’t dropping off a kid. “Dumbledore has asked me to teach this year. He’s given me the Defence Against the Dark Arts job.”

“Oh, that’s great news, Remus. DADA was always your thing, wasn’t it? Hey, Martin, it looks like _Professor_ Lupin here is going to be one of your teachers,” Louise turned to her son and grinned. “Don’t give him too much trouble, okay?” Martin smiled sneakily, and Remus shook his head. He’d have to watch out for that one.

Louise glanced at her husband, and he pulled Martin away. Lowering her voice, she asked, “How are you, really? I mean, what with the whole Sirius thing?” Remus opened his mouth to reassure her that he was fine, but he couldn’t bring himself to say it. He sighed.

“Really? I don’t know, Louise. To be honest, I think that’s why Dumbledore wants me at Hogwarts this year; to keep me out of trouble.”

“Probably,” Louise said. Her tendency for brutal honesty definitely hadn’t diminished over the years. “Well, send me an owl if you want to talk, okay?” With this, Louise said her goodbyes and returned to her husband and son. Remus looked on wistfully for a few seconds, and then boarded the train.

He entered the last compartment, closing the door behind him and shutting the blinds. He cast a quick spell to ensure that he wouldn’t be disturbed, and then set about changing into his robes. Tapping his wand against his case to undo the neatly knotted string that was the only thing keeping it intact, he then carefully extracted what could laughably be called his best robes. Rolling his eyes at the thought of how out of place he would look at the staff table, he quickly got changed and then reopened the blinds. He thought for a while about leaving the door locked, but thought better of it. It wouldn’t hurt to make friends with some of the students now, before the school year started proper.

Remus retied the string around his case and lifted it carefully into the luggage rack above his head. Sitting down in the corner of the compartment, he ran a hand across his eyes. He hadn’t realised, until just now, quite how tired he felt. After all, it was only two days since the full moon, and he had been unable to procure Wolfsbane potion. He had spent the night locked in a shack in the middle of the countryside, and his transformation had been worse than usual. It was almost as if the wolf knew that, the next time Remus transformed, he would still be in control of his own mind. It was a large part of why he had agreed to take the job Dumbledore had offered him; the Headmaster had promised that Remus would be supplied with as much Wolfsbane as he needed during his time at Hogwarts. He smiled ruefully to himself. His transformations would be as painful as ever, but at least he would remain in control of his own mind. That loss of self was what he feared most about the full moon, the rush of bloodlust that drowned his humanity in a torrent of animal savagery. But he wouldn’t have to experience it again, well, not for another year at any rate.

Gradually, the noise level outside on the platform increased as it got closer to eleven o’ clock, but Remus hardly noticed. A combination of post- full moon exhaustion and contentment that he was finally going back to the one place where he had felt he belonged overwhelmed him, and slowly, he began to drop off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

 Several hours later, he awoke in pitch darkness. From the sounds of thudding and squealing, he realised that there must be several children in his compartment now.

“Quiet!” he said, trying to listen out for noises from the rest of the train. He couldn’t see a thing, so he wordlessly conjured a handful of flames and looked warily around the compartment. “Stay where you are,” he warned the shadowy figures of the children, and carefully got to his feet, heading for the door.

But it opened before he could reach it. Standing in the doorway, towering from floor to ceiling, was a Dementor. It drew rattling breaths through its hood, and the whole compartment went cold. Remus could here distant voices screaming, snarling, could feel the terror that came before a transformation, but he pushed it aside. He was aware of one of the children stiffening and falling out of his seat to lie twitching on the floor. Carefully stepping over him, Remus approached the Dementor.

“None of us is hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go,” he ordered it, not expecting it to listen. The creature didn’t move, so he brought to mind one of the memories from earlier, of a happier time on platform nine and three quarters. “ _Expecto patronum_ ,” he muttered, and a non-corporeal Patronus shot from the end of his wand, repelling the Dementor. It glided away down the train and, as it did so, the lights came back on in the compartment and the chill vanished from the air.

Now that he could see the other occupants of his compartment clearly, he saw that they were all around twelve or thirteen. One boy had collapsed to the floor, and a bushy haired girl and a red-haired boy were kneeling over him.

“Harry! Harry! Are you all right?” The girl was gently slapping the boy in the face.

“W-what?” the boy asked, bleary eyed. Remus looked at his face and then worked hard to hide a start. Staring back at him from James Potter’s face were Lily Potter’s bright green eyes. Harry... Harry _Potter_.

He was aware of the children talking, but his thoughts were far away from the Hogwarts Express. They were of an earlier time, a happier time, when he had held his best friends’ child in his arms and all had seemed right with the world. Shaking himself out of his reverie, he reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a bar of chocolate he had placed there earlier for just such an eventuality. He had suspected that he might encounter Dementors on the train, but he had his inner chocoholic to thank for the fact that he had enough for all the children. With a loud snap, he started to break the large slab into pieces and passed them out, making sure to give a particularly large piece to Harry.

“Here,” he said. “Eat it. It’ll help.” As he passed the rest of the chocolate out to the others, he made certain to give a large piece to the red-haired girl who was still huddled in the corner and almost as white as Harry.

“What was that thing?” Harry asked.

“A Dementor,” Remus replied. “One of the Dementors of Azkaban.” Crumpling up the chocolate wrapper and sticking it back in his pocket, he stood up. “Eat,” he repeated. “It’ll help. I need to speak to the driver, excuse me...” Remus strolled past Harry and out into the corridor, but he stopped as soon as he was out of view of the compartment. Hiding his face in his hands, he took a few deep breaths. He had known that he would encounter Harry in class eventually, but to come across him completely without warning like that... All the ghosts of his past had surfaced at once and it had threatened to overwhelm even his considerable emotional control. With no small effort, he pushed his emotions and memories aside and walked quickly down the central corridor of the train, heading for the driver’s compartment.

When he reached the end of the train, he stuck his head around the door and asked how long it would be before they reached Hogwarts.

“’Bout ten minutes, mate,” came the driver’s reply. Remus was glad that they’d be there soon. Every student on the train had just had a close encounter with a Dementor, and there was nothing like food and company to help one recover from such an experience. Borrowing the emergency owl that roosted in a cubbyhole next to the driver’s compartment, he jotted down a quick note to Professor McGonagall, advising her that Harry had been adversely affected by the Dementors and ought to see Madam Pomfrey when he arrived at the castle. Sending the owl on its way out of the window, he walked back down the train to Harry’s compartment, and noticed that all the kids were still shaky. He gave a small, hopefully reassuring smile.

“I haven’t poisoned that chocolate, you know...” To his great relief, they all started to eat, and colour instantly began to return to their faces. “We’ll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes. Are you all right, Harry?” he asked.

“Fine,” Harry muttered, clearly embarrassed by the attention. The rest of the journey passed in relative silence, which Remus was glad about. His nap had been all well and good, but being woken up by a visit from a Dementor was not exactly conducive to rest and recuperation. He suspected that he might have to trouble Madam Pomfrey for a Pepper-Up Potion if he was going to be able to teach tomorrow morning. 

When the train finally came to a standstill, Remus waited until Harry and his friends had filed out of the compartment, and then retrieved his case from the luggage rack. He attempted to merge with the crowd, but the crush of bodies meant that it took him a while make it onto the platform. He smiled at the sound of Hagrid calling the first years over to the lake and the boats. Hagrid had been in charge of taking Remus’s year group across the lake when they had been first years, and Remus recalled how scared he had been at first of this imposing giant of a man. However, he had gotten to know Hagrid over the years and now considered him a friend, albeit one he hadn’t seen in nearly a decade. The last contact he had had with the groundskeeper was when he had received an owl from his old friend requesting photos to put in an album for Harry more than a year ago.

Eventually, he made his way to the muddy track where the thestral-pulled stagecoaches waited to carry the train’s passengers up to the castle. Surprisingly, he found himself not far behind Harry and his friends. Remus fleetingly considered joining them in their coach, but instantly thought better of it. Harry had seemed uncomfortable that Remus had witnessed his fainting spell on the train, and it seemed unlikely that he would appreciate any further attention as a result of the incident. Instead, Remus got into the carriage after Harry’s group. Initially, it looked as though he would have it to himself, but as the last second Martin Richards and two other first year boys clambered in after him. The other two boys looked at Remus apprehensively, but Martin waved them off.

“It’s okay; he’s a friend of my Mum’s. He’s actually kind of cool.” Martin winked at Remus, causing him to almost laugh out loud. He was a sly one, was Martin. By claiming Remus was cool, he established preconceptions, and placed Remus in the interesting position of having to maintain this reputation unless he wanted to lose the boys’ respect. Shaking his head and hiding a grin, Remus turned to stare out of the window as Martin chatted away to his new friends.

As the carriage passed through the wrought iron gates that marked the entrance to the Hogwarts grounds, Remus felt the wash of cold that indicated a Dementor presence. The boys noticed it too, because they stopped talking and stared apprehensively out the windows.

“It’s all right, boys,” Remus said, reassuringly. “The Dementors won’t be allowed into the grounds. Besides, there’s an excellent remedy for Dementors.” The boys looked up at him curiously.

“What is it?” asked one of them, a skinny blonde boy with glasses.

“It’s chocolate. In all seriousness,” he added, seeing the looks of scepticism. “Try it, it works. Now, if you gentlemen will excuse me, I believe we’ve reached the castle.” Sure enough, the carriage jolted to a stop, and Remus climbed out.

Immediately ahead of him, a blonde Slytherin boy was blocking Harry’s path with a look of malicious glee on his pointed face.

“Did you faint as well, Weasley?” the boy asked loudly, clearly hoping to elicit amusement from his hulking cronies. “Did the scary old Dementor frighten you, too, Weasley?” Recognising all too well the signs of a school bully, Remus decided to interfere before the Weasley boy became violent.

“Is there a problem?” he asked mildly. The blonde boy turned to face him with an insolent stare, which flickered over Remus’s shabby robes and dilapidated suitcase.

“Oh, no- er- _Professor_ ,” the boy said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Smirking at his goons, he then disappeared up the steps into the castle. Remus rolled his eyes, exasperatedly. There was one in every year group. And, if he wasn’t very much mistaken, that had been the Malfoy boy, and it was clear that he took after his father. That was going to make his third year classes a lot of fun.

However, Remus’s worries melted away as he gazed up at the magnificent castle before him. He was filled with an undeniable sense of belonging, of coming home. He had spent the best seven years of his life in this castle. To be sure, that was largely because of the people he had met there, but the place itself held many happy memories. During his time at Hogwarts, his friends had been genuine, loyal. It was only the war beyond the castle walls that had turned them against each other, and he stood by that belief. Remus refused to tarnish his childhood memories with what came after. However, what with the ‘whole Sirius thing’ as Louise had put it, current events threatened to break down the barriers he had carefully constructed around his memories of his school days. If Sirius came to Hogwarts... But, no, he wouldn’t think about that.

Purposefully striding up the stone stairs that led into the cavernous Entrance Hall, Remus looked around in wonder. The giant front doors, the marble staircase, the flaming torches; it was all just as he remembered it. As he walked through into the Great Hall, he had to make a conscious effort to walk towards the staff table rather than the Gryffindor house table. It was a surreal feeling, returning to Hogwarts as a teacher rather than a student.

Sitting in one of the empty chairs at the staff table, he shoved his case against the back wall. Glancing up and down the table, he felt even more bizarre. He was now sitting at the same table where all of his own teachers had sat, including Minerva McGonagall, Filius Flitwick and of course Albus Dumbledore. He suddenly felt like a kid pretending to be a grown up, which was rather ridiculous considering that he was thirty three years of age. Stifling a snort at his own expense, he realised that the sorting was about to begin.

Curiously enough, it was Professor Flitwick who led the first years into the Hall, rather than Professor McGonagall. After a moment of puzzlement, Remus realised that Minerva must have gotten his owl, and was still talking to Harry. Staring along the Gryffindor table, he saw that Harry’s red-headed Weasley friend was sitting at the Gryffindor table with a clear space on either side of him, supporting this assumption.

Remus’s thoughts were interrupted, however, when the Sorting Hat began to sing:

 

“For many years have I sat here,

Before staff and students all.

Placing students at one of

The four tables in this Hall.

 

To Gryffindor I send the brave,

To Hufflepuff the true

The cunning and ambitious,

It's Slytherin for you.

 

To Ravenclaw I send the brightest,

But all of you should know

Your house does not determine

The way your life will go.

 

For Gryffindors can be most cunning

And Hufflepuffs so smart,

Slytherins can be so selfless,

Ravenclaws most brave at heart.

 

So don't judge others by their houses

They only are a guide,

Now step up here and I will show you

Merely part of what's inside.”

 

As applause rang out through the Hall, Remus shook his head in wonder. How that old hat managed to be so topical in its songs, he had no idea. Of course, the message that one’s house did not define a person’s path in life was one that should always be repeated, but it held a particular weight this year. Sirius had been a proud Gryffindor born into a Slytherin family, but later in life his true colours had proved to be more green and silver than red and gold. More often than not, a person’s house was no indication of what they might grow into.

As the sorting took place, Remus’s mind wandered back to his own sorting, twenty-two years previously. He had never forgotten what the hat had said him, and likely never would.

“Ah,” the hat had mused. “The werewolf. I’ve never encountered one of your kind before. Curious.”

“What’s curious?” Remus had asked, his curiosity momentarily overcoming his nerves.

“You’re not at all like I expected. I suspected you might be a Slytherin, but you’re not nearly cunning or ambitious enough. In fact, you care so much about others that Hufflepuff might be the place for you. Then again, there’s Ravenclaw brains in here as well. Hmm, where to put you?” Remus had cowered slightly on the stool, really not liking the attention. “Now, what have we here? Ah, now this settles everything. There’s only one place for you, with bravery like that. GRYFFINDOR!”

To this day, Remus had been surprised by the hat’s decision. He had never thought of himself as a particularly brave man, despite what people had told him over the years. Then again, had he not been in Gryffindor he would never have become friends with James, Sirius and Peter, although he had never been sure whether that would have been a good thing or not. Certainly, they had made his time at Hogwarts the best years of his life, but they were all gone now and his life was so much poorer because of it. Better, perhaps, to not know what he was missing.

A scraping of chair legs to his left startled him out of his thoughts. Minerva had returned, and Filius was now carrying the Sorting Hat and its stool out of the Hall. He smiled at his friend and former teacher in greeting, and was about to ask after Harry when Professor Dumbledore stood up to speak. It was more than a little surreal, sitting behind Dumbledore during his welcome speech. Every other time he had been at Hogwarts for the start of term feast, he had been sitting at the Gryffindor house table, staring up at Dumbledore’s friendly, aged face and twinkling eyes.

“Welcome!” the headmaster said. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! I have a few things to say to you all, and as one of them is very serious, I think it best to get it out of the way before you become befuddled by our excellent feast...” Dumbledore trailed off, clearly gathering his thoughts, cleared his throat and then continued. “As you will all be aware after their search of the Hogwarts Express, our school is presently playing host to some of the Dementors of Azkaban, who are here on Ministry of Magic business.” It was clear from Dumbledore’s tone of voice that he was less than pleased with this arrangement, considering it a necessary evil in order to protect his underage charges.

“They are stationed at every entrance to the grounds,” Dumbledore continued, “and while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are not to be fooled by tricks or disguises- or even Invisibility Cloaks.” Remus muffled a snort in his hand. Despite the bland tone of the headmaster’s voice, it was clear that that remark had been aimed rather pointedly at Harry and his friends. He knew that James had left his Invisibility Cloak in Dumbledore’s hands not long before he had died, and it was no surprise that Dumbledore had passed it down to Harry.

“It is not in the nature of a Dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I therefore warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the Prefects, and our new Head Boy and Girl, to make sure that no student runs foul of the Dementors.” Dumbledore paused again, looking seriously around the silent Hall.

“On a happier note,” he continued, a smile breaking through the serious expression, “I am pleased to welcome two new teachers to our ranks this year.” Two? Who was the second? “Firstly, Professor Lupin, who has kindly consented to fill the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.” Remus raised a hand in greeting, smiling down at the intimidatingly large sea of faces before him. The applause was rather unenthusiastic, but Remus refused to be disheartened by that. He probably stuck out like a sore thumb next to all the other teachers, whose best robes were far from patched and fraying. His general poorly appearance probably did not inspire confidence in his ability to withstand dark magic. Harry and his friends clapped hard, however, which made Remus smile. He was glad he had made a good impression on some of his future students at least.

As the rather feeble applause died away, Remus became aware of a prickling sensation on the back of his neck. He looked along the staff table to see Severus Snape staring at him with pure loathing on his face. Remus was taken aback. His friends may have bullied Severus constantly during their school years, but he had always strived to be civil towards the man. They had even been on amicable terms for a few years, although that was before Severus had found out the truth about Remus’s condition.

“As to our second new appointment,” Dumbledore continued, taking the old classmates’ attention away from each other, “well I am sorry to tell you that Professor Kettleburn, our Care of Magical Creatures teacher, retired at the end of last year in order to enjoy more time with his remaining limbs. However, I am delighted to say that his place will be filled by none other than Rubeus Hagrid, who has agreed to take on this teaching job in addition to his gamekeeping duties.”

As a tumultuous applause filled the Great Hall, Remus beamed down the table at Hagrid, who had gone bright red and was hiding a grin in his beard. It seemed that it was a good year at Hogwarts for the not-entirely-human. As Hagrid himself was prone to saying, Albus Dumbledore was indeed a great man.

“Well, I think that’s everything of importance,” smiled Dumbledore, when the applause for Hagrid finally died down. “Let the feast begin!” And with those words, every table in the Hall was suddenly laden with more food than Remus had seen in years. Well aware that he was in serious need of a few square meals, Remus filled his plate with everything within reach, and then tucked in.

The food was even better than Remus remembered, and he made a mental note to make his way down to the kitchens at some point and congratulate the house elves. With any luck, many of the elves he and his friends had befriended during their late night kitchen raids would still be around, and this was very much a year for meeting up with old friends.

Taking a brief break from eating in order to enquire after Harry, he was pleased to learn that the boy hadn’t suffered any lasting ill-effects from the Dementor on the train.

“Poppy was pleased to hear that you gave Potter chocolate. She seems to have taken it as an indication that you know what you’re doing,” said Minerva, a glint of humour in her eyes. Minerva had been a staunch supporter of Remus during his time at Hogwarts, and knew full well that he had always been more than capable when it came to dealing with dark magic and creatures. As such, Remus decided to run with the joke.

“You mean I actually have to know what I’m talking about? If I’d known that, I’d never have taken the job!” Remus put on a mock-worried voice, and was rewarded with a genuine smile from Minerva.

“Good to see you haven’t lost your sense of humour, Remus. Although, I’m still not sure if I’ve forgiven you for the catnip incident.” She gave him her best stern teacher glare, but she couldn’t completely keep the warmth from her face. Remus chuckled in recollection. Now _that_ had been a funny prank.

“Catnip incident?” squeaked Filius interestedly from Minerva’s other side. Remus exchanged amused glances with Minerva, and spent the rest of the feast reminiscing about various practical jokes he and his friends had pulled on his then teachers, now colleagues.

 

* * *

 

  Sometime later, when the last scraps of food finally vanished from the gleaming plates, Dumbledore stood up again and bid the students good night. With a great scraping of benches and thundering of feet, the Great Hall began to empty, and Remus watched as Harry and his friends approached the table to congratulate Hagrid on his new teaching position. After Minerva shooed them away, Remus approached Hagrid himself.

“Congratulations, Hagrid,” he smiled, patting the groundskeeper on his massive shoulder.

“Remus! I was meanin’ ter talk to yeh at some point. It’s great ter see yeh again!”

“You too, Hagrid,” Remus replied warmly. “It’s been far too long.”

“Yeh, las’ I saw yeh, yeh were still jus’ a kid. Anyway, I ‘spect you’ll be wantin’ ter get off ter bed. Lessons ter plan, an’ all that!”

“Indeed. Well, I’ll see you at some point tomorrow, Hagrid. We can swap stories about our first days!” Hagrid nodded, clearly still a little overwhelmed by the whole business, and wandered off in the direction of the Entrance Hall and the grounds. Remus smiled to himself and, retrieving his case, headed off himself. Treading the vaguely familiar path to the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher’s office, he realised that he’d never thought to ask much about his living quarters. Years of living with very little money had made him anything but picky when it came to accommodations, but still it was probably advisable to find out at least something about the place one would be staying in for an entire year. As it was, all he knew was that each teacher had a suite of rooms attached to their office, and that Dumbledore had assured him that his would be secure enough for him to transform in whilst under the humanising influence of the Wolfsbane potion.

Opening the office door- _his_ office door, he corrected himself in amusement- Remus found a small, mostly bare room. There was a desk, some bookshelves, and several other surfaces, although the room was devoid of any personality. He was unsurprised by this; it had, after all, been stripped of all of Gilderoy Lockhart’s assorted egomaniacal paraphernalia when the man had lost both his memory and his job at the end of the last school year. There was, however, a box of assorted office-type items including, Remus noted happily, a kettle. Looking at the bookshelves appreciatively, Remus knew it wouldn’t be long before his own personality rubbed off on the office.

Continuing across the office and through a door in the back wall, Remus got his first glimpse of the rooms where he would be living for the next year. The first room was very much a living area, with a fireplace and armchairs, along with space for non-work related books and items. There were several boxes in the centre of the floor that Remus could see contained books, presumably the teaching materials that he would need. Leading off from this living area was a small corridor which led to a bathroom and a bedroom. Upon entering the bedroom, Remus smiled in familiarity. The four-poster bed was very similar to the one he had slept in during his years in Gryffindor Tower, something he couldn’t help but think was intentional.

Dumping his case on the bed, Remus began to unpack. A few quick spells and his small pile of clothes flew over to the wardrobe and began to sort themselves onto hangars and into drawers. He then set about sorting out the books that he had brought with him, most of which were completely unrelated to his subject. During the years he had spent in the Muggle world, he had developed a taste for Muggle literature. Although he suspected that he would have little free time, Remus had brought along several volumes he had long been intending to read. Placing them on the bedside table, he smiled to himself, wondering what Dumbledore would think of Gandalf, and whether he would see the similarity.

When he had finished unpacking, Remus looked at the clock in the corner and realised that he should probably get some sleep. After all, he had a busy day of classes tomorrow. Double-checking his timetable, he cast a timed waking charm and quickly got changed into his nightclothes. Clambering into his four-poster, he settled down to sleep, suddenly feeling a lot like an eleven year old again. It was a nice feeling and, comforted by nostalgia, he drifted off to sleep.

 


	2. Classes and Curses

The next morning, Remus awoke to the bleeping alarm of the waking charm he had set the previous night. He silenced the spell with a wave of his hand, but upon checking the clock decided that he could afford to stay in bed a little longer. Propping himself up against the pillows, he reached over to the bedside table in order to retrieve his timetable for the day. His first class of the day, and indeed the year, was first year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. He was in two minds about this. Of course, the curriculum for first years was very basic, and thus an easy introduction for him to the world of DADA teaching. However, he remembered from his own first year just how awkward first years could be in classroom situations. After all, the magical world was very new to many of them, and Hogwarts itself was new to them all. A combination of nerves and a desire to make their mark often led to much more misbehaviour and attitude than other year groups.

Another glance at the clock told Remus that he ought to head down to breakfast if he wanted to be finished in time to set up for the first years. Reluctantly, he dragged himself out of bed and got dressed, grabbing his briefcase from the bottom of his suitcase in the process. Fortunately, he had had the presence of mind to pack the briefcase with all the materials he would need for his first day’s classes before he had even packed his suitcase, which meant that he could head down to breakfast straight away.

Sunlight streamed through the castle windows as Remus made his way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. He passed several groups of students on the way, smiling pleasantly at them all. Even the snide looks he got from a group of older Slytherins couldn’t spoil his good mood. He was back in the place he belonged, about to start his dream job and, as the scent of bacon filled the air around him, he couldn’t imagine how this day could get any better.

Remus’s good mood continued all the way through breakfast, and there was a veritable spring in his step as he walked through the castle to the DADA classroom. As it was their first lesson of the school year, he was planning to take things slowly with the first years. More likely than not, he would spend the whole lesson answering questions, something he was very happy to do. It would give him an excellent opportunity to get to know his students and, with any luck, make a good impression.

Ten minutes after Remus sat down to take a last look at his teaching notes, the first students began to arrive outside. The noise level slowly grew as nine o’ clock approached and, when the time came, he stood up and strode over to the door. Opening it carefully, so as not to hit any of his students, he stuck his head out into the corridor.

“You can all come in now,” he said, a friendly smile on his face. “Sit wherever you want, and you can leave your books in your bags. Since this is your first lesson, I thought we might have a bit of a discussion rather than jump straight into the textbooks.”

The first years filed into the classroom, chattering happily, and began to fill the desks in groups. Remus was pleasantly surprised to notice that Martin and his two friends from the thestral carriage were there, all three in Ravenclaw blue. He had been so wrapped up in his own thoughts during the Sorting that he hadn’t actually noticed them getting sorted. Martin actually winked at Remus as he sat down in the front row, his friends on either side of him. Remus almost snorted. He was definitely his mother’s son, that one. It looked like this was going to be an interesting lesson.

“Well, good morning everyone, and welcome to your first Defence Against the Dark Arts class. As Professor Dumbledore said at the feast, my name is Professor Lupin and I’m going to be your teacher for the year.” Remus decided against sitting behind his desk, instead walking around to the front of it and sitting on the edge. Picking up the list of names from his desk, he took the register. “Now, I’m afraid it’s going to take me a little while to learn all your names, so please forgive me if I get anyone mixed up.

“I thought we might start today with a bit of a questions and answers session. I’m sure you’ve all got questions you’d like to ask and I’ll be happy to answer any of them, as long as they’ve got something to do with this class. So, would anyone like to go first?” Remus looked around the room. He was hoping that Martin might get the ball rolling, and he wasn’t disappointed.

“Professor?” he asked, half-heartedly putting his hand in the air.

“Yes, Martin?”

“That stuff you said yesterday about chocolate working as a cure for Dementors, was that really true?” Remus smiled and nodded.

“Yes, it was. You see,” he said, addressing the whole class, “Dementors feed off of happiness. Their mere presence is enough to suck the joy out of you. Fortunately, chocolate is a very effective and readily available way to counteract this effect. In fact, I’d whole-heartedly recommend taking some if you ever need to pass the Dementors that guard the school gates.”

“Professor?” asked a Hufflepuff girl from near the back of the room. “Why are the Dementors here? Is it because of Sirius Black?” Remus looked down at his hands, thinking. Children were remarkably perceptive; it was no wonder that some of them had put two and two together and realised the real reason that the Dementors were at Hogwarts. However, Dumbledore had warned the teachers about revealing too much; especially the fact the Sirius was likely to come to Hogwarts. How much should he tell them? “Professor?” the girl asked again, and Remus looked up, realising that he had been momentarily lost in his own thoughts.

“I’m sorry, Celina. The simple answer to your question is yes, the Dementors are here because of Sirius Black.” Whispers spread throughout the room. “However, they are merely here as a precaution. Black would never come anywhere near Hogwarts with Professor Dumbledore as headmaster, and the Dementors are simply another form of deterrent.” It wasn’t a lie, not entirely, but neither was it completely truthful. No supporter of Voldemort would ever be foolhardy enough to challenge Albus Dumbledore, but it was an established fact that Sirius was after Harry Potter. Still, there was a fine line between withholding information in order to prevent panic and outright lying to the children that were his responsibility to protect.

Their curiosity about the Dementors seemingly satisfied for now, the class turned their questions to the subject of Defence Against the Dark Arts itself.

“Professor Lupin,” asked one of the Hufflepuff boys, “why do we have to learn how to defend ourselves from the dark arts? The man who came to tell my parents and me about magic said that all the dark wizards were defeated years ago.”

“Well, Andy, I’m afraid that’s not entirely true.” Andy who, it seemed, was a Muggle-born, looked taken aback. “While it’s true that the war did end when Voldemort was destroyed-“ A large percentage of the class gasped when he said the name. “- many of his followers survived. Not all of them were locked away in Azkaban. Some switched back to our side, and there were several others who were never caught.

“Also, even if all of Voldemort’s followers had been defeated, there are always those who seek to use magic for their own gain. Some people do not understand that magic is a power that comes with a burden of responsibility. Instead of using their abilities to help others, they use them for their own gain and don’t care who they hurt in the process. We call them dark wizards, and it’s for this reason that all witches and wizards are taught to defend themselves.”

“Have you ever fought any dark wizards, sir?” asked one of the boys sitting with Martin, looking up at Remus expectantly.

“Yes, Joe, I have,” Remus replied, closing the barriers in his mind that held back his worst memories of the Great Wizarding War. “However, it’s not something I like to talk about. As you might imagine, it wasn’t the most pleasant of experiences.”  Joe looked apologetic. “It’s alright, I expected that someone might ask. Maybe later in the year, if it’s ever relevant to the course, I’ll tell you some of my stories, but not at the moment.” Seemingly satisfied, Joe nodded and no one brought up the subject for the rest of the lesson. Instead, Remus invited the class to ask him questions about what they wold be studying, and he spent an enjoyable half hour describing the various spells he would be teaching them over the year.

When the end of the lesson came, Remus was surprised when the class let out a collective groan. It seemed that they had really enjoyed themselves, and many of them dragged their feet as they left. As the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws filed out of the classroom, Remus smiled and waved them off.

“Bye, professor!”

“See you later, sir.”

“Goodbye, Professor Lupin.”

“Goodbye, everyone,” he replied, and closed the door behind them. Well, that had gone much better than he had expected. The only experience he had of teaching were the rare occasions when he had found employment tutoring magical children too young to go to Hogwarts. As such, this was the first time that he had had to deal with more than one or two children at any one time. Wandering back over to his desk, he wondered if he should have given the first years any homework. Perhaps he should have asked them to read the introductory chapter in their textbooks, but it was too late now. Remus shook his head. Of course he had wanted to give a good impression, but he didn’t want the first years to think that they could get away without any homework. Ah, well. Next lesson he would start the course proper, along with all the homework that entailed.

Checking his timetable again, Remus noted that he had one more class before lunch, and that was the sixth year NEWT class. That would be an interesting change of pace. The NEWT class was much smaller, and composed entirely of teenagers. In Remus’s experience, teenagers were much harder to handle than eleven-year-olds, largely because of just how much they knew already and the egos they developed because of it. The sixth years would likely be much more confrontational, and nowhere near as easy to impress. 

Remus pulled out his copy of the sixth year textbook. The NEWT syllabus covered much more advanced material, including curses the likes of which Remus had not seen since the war. Even the three Unforgivable Curses were part of the course, and it was unlikely that he would be able to prevent uncomfortable questions from the sixth years as easily that he had stopped the first years. Putting the textbook back on his desk, Remus instead sat back in his chair, casting his mind back to the training sessions with Alastor Moody that all young Order members had been put through.

Mad-Eye had been an intimidating teacher, unafraid to curse his pupils, and Remus and his friends had very quickly become very good at defensive spells. They had also been taught how to use many curses that he sincerely hoped he would never have to use again. Nowadays, however, students were only taught _about_ curses, rather than being taught to use them. Remus chuckled to imagine what Mad-Eye would think of a more theoretical approach to learning about the dark arts. The world was no longer at war, though, and the students of today were unlikely to ever need to curse a Death Eater, a fact for which Remus was profoundly grateful.

Checking the clock on the classroom wall, Remus saw that it was about fifteen minutes until the sixth years were due to arrive. He briefly contemplated making his way to the staff room for a quick cup of tea, but decided against it. He was looking forward to working alongside his former teachers and fellow Order members, but right now he didn’t really feel like braving their company. From what Filius and Minerva had told him last night, the staff room was a far livelier place than any of the students suspected.

Instead, Remus decided that his time would be better spent coming up with a suitably entertaining first lesson for the third years. The textbook for third year focussed almost exclusively on dark creatures, a subject that Remus was uniquely qualified to teach. In addition to being, technically speaking, a dark creature himself, he had had a lot of experience over the years when it came to dealing with the many monsters that lived under wizard beds. As a supplemental source of income, he had often found himself dealing with infestations of all manner of dangerous creatures.

Flicking through the third year textbook, Remus glanced at each chapter in turn, looking for a creature that he could easily find somewhere in the castle. Maybe it was all those long ago lessons with Mad-Eye Moody, but Remus preferred a more hands-on method of teaching than could be provided by merely reading the textbooks. He firmly believed that his students would learn better if they were given the chance to see the creatures they were studying, first hand. However, many, such as Red Caps, Hinkypunks and Grindylows could only be found living in very particular habitats and he would have to order them in if he wanted to show them to his class. Eventually, Remus came across the chapter on Boggarts, and smiled. Yes, they would do nicely. A place with as many nooks and crannies as Hogwarts would likely be home to a great many of the shapeshifters, and he should be able to find one before Thursday.

A few minutes later, Remus’s thoughts were interrupted by the build-up of noise that indicated that his class was waiting outside. Closing the third year textbook, he walked over to the door and let them in. The NEWT class was much smaller than most of his other classes; there were only eleven students in total.

“Good morning, everyone,” Remus said, once the class was seated. “Welcome to your first NEWT level Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson. I can see that you’re all here, but I’ll take the register anyway so I can get started on learning all your names.”  Once he had matched all the names on his class list to the corresponding faces, he walked around to the front of his desk and perched on the edge again. After his first class, he had realised that he preferred to teach without a desk between himself and his class. To his mind, it led to a friendlier atmosphere, although time would tell if his students felt the same way.

“Now, does anyone know the main area that we will be covering this year?” Remus asked, wanting to gauge how much they knew already.

“Curses,” said a voice from the back of the room. It was a Gryffindor boy named Neil who had spoken up, although he hadn’t raised his hand. This was normal with older classes, and just one of the many things Remus would have to get used to over the course of the year.

“That’s right,” Remus nodded, “although I think I ought to stress now that we will only be learning about curses in the context of how to defend against them. Curses are the worst form of dark magic, used only when one intends to seriously harm an opponent, or indeed target. There are far more effective, non-lethal spells that can be used instead, many of which you know already. There are several such spells that are part of the NEWT curriculum, and I shall be demonstrating those to you this year as well. Before we start, does anyone have any questions?”

“Professor,” asked Persephone, one of the Slytherins, “when do we get to see the Unforgivable Curses? I’ve heard that they’re supposed to be demonstrated to us this year.” Remus sighed, having expected the question. Professor Dumbledore had informed him about this particular misconception, something that he had the DADA teacher of five years previously to thank for. Apparently more than a little traumatised by her experiences during the war, she had seen it as her job to prepare her students for the absolute worst that they could possibly face, with little or no regard for their age. This had included the Unforgivable Curses and, ever since, the urban myth that a demonstration of the curses was part of the curriculum had spread throughout the school.

“I’m afraid that, despite what you may have heard, it is not mandatory for teachers to demonstrate the Unforgivable Curses. It’s entirely down to their discretion.”

“So, will you show us?” Persephone asked, with a power hungry look in her eyes that worried Remus more than a little. Well, so much for trying to stay on the good side of all of his students.

“No, I will not.” Several of the class groaned, and Remus held up a hand. “Let me finish. I do have a good reason for refusing to perform them.” Despite their somewhat morbid disappointment, the class all looked at Remus with interest. He couldn’t blame them for being curious about the dark arts. After all, none of them were old enough to remember the horrors of the war. This reasoning didn’t make in any easier to see the purely intellectual interest on their faces, but he still forced himself to look each and every one of them in the eye as he spoke.

“During the war against Voldemort-“ One or two people gasped, but Remus did not stop. “-I was heavily involved in the fight against his forces. I was on the frontlines, so to speak, and I encountered a great many curses in combat, including the Unforgiveables. I can tell you now- having personally experienced two of the three and lost dear friends to the third- that those curses are among the most horrific things a witch or wizard can do to another being. So I hope that you can understand my refusal to ever use them myself, even if it’s only for demonstration purposes.”

“S-sorry, Professor,” stammered Persephone, her face flushed with surprise and embarrassment. “I- I didn’t think...”

“That’s quite alright, Persephone,” Remus said, giving the girl a small, reassuring smile. “I expected that someone would ask, and I’m quite grateful that you did. Getting it out of the way now was for the best, to prevent any disappointment later. Now, what say you open your books, and I’ll give you a more detailed overview of everything that you’re expected to learn this year?” The class scrambled to comply, and it was clear from the looks on their faces that they were seriously re-evaluating their opinions of the shabby, ill-looking fellow who stood before them. Remus absently rubbed at a scar on his hand and smiled to himself. This was definitely going to be an interesting year.

When the end of the lesson came, Remus sent the sixth years on their way and retrieved his timetable from his briefcase. His third and last lesson of the day was half of second year, in this case Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. However, that wasn’t until after lunch. Not bothering to gather his things together, Remus set out for the Great Hall with a spring in his step. He was about halfway there when he encountered Peeves.

“Hey, look! It’s _Loopy_!” cackled the poltergeist, floating upside-down alongside Remus. “What’s Loopy doing back here? Come to see Peevesie?”

“Hello, Peeves,” Remus said, bemused. “And it’s _Professor Lupin_ to you now.”

“Oo-ooh,” said Peeves, mockingly. “ _Professor_ Loopy.” Remus rolled his eyes, although he was more amused than annoyed. Considering the number of pranks him and his friends had pulled on Peeves during their time at Hogwarts, it was a wonder the poltergeist hadn’t pulled something on him the moment he arrived. Nicknames were incredibly mild compared to what Remus had expected.

“Good enough,” he chuckled. “Now, if you’ll excuse me Peeves, I’d like a chance to eat my lunch in peace.” Peeves pulled a mock-offended face, blew a loud raspberry in Remus’s face, and zoomed off. Remus was just thinking to himself that he had managed to dodge a hex, when several ink pellets hit him in the back of the head. He felt a mischievous grin form unbidden on his face, and wondered if Peeves realised that he had just declared war.

Remus reached the Great Hall without further incident, and spent an enjoyable half-hour chatting to Septima Vector, the arithmancy professor.  Remus had taken arithmancy himself, and found it to be an enjoyable subject, despite not being a popular choice amongst the student population. He was pleased to see that the subject was still going strong.

After he finished his lunch, Remus headed back up to his office in order to retrieve some books. In addition to the textbooks he would require that afternoon, he also picked up one of the Muggle novels he had brought for reading in his spare time. After his second year class, Remus was free for the rest of the afternoon, and he planned to take full advantage of one of the few days when he wouldn’t be marking homework.

By the time he had wandered back to his classroom, the second years were already starting to arrive outside. This particular class consisted entirely of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, and Remus was pleased to see students from the two houses talking to each other. They all stopped talking, however, when they noticed Remus. He smiled at them reassuringly, and gestured towards the classroom door.

“You can all go in,” he said, holding back as he tried to stabilise the stack of books in his arms that the gesture had dislodged. It was a losing battle, however, and he just barely managed to avoid the whole lot falling on his feet by jumping backwards. As he retrieved the fallen books, two girls from his class stopped to help. He recognised the red-haired girl from the train, but her blonde-haired Ravenclaw friend was unfamiliar to him.

“Thank you, girls,” he said, when they handed him the last of the books. “Sorry for nearly dropping them on you.”

“That’s okay,” said the Ravenclaw girl dreamily. “You were probably attacked by wrackspurts. They cause all sorts of accidents, you know. They make your brain all fuzzy.” Bemused, Remus followed the two girls into his classroom and dumped the books on his desk, making a mental note to look up what “wrackspurts” were the next time he was in the library.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” he said, as the class rumbled and jostled their way into their seats.

“Good afternoon, Professor Lupin,” mumbled a few less-than-enthusiastic voices. Remus refused to be discouraged by that lack of enthusiasm, however, as this particular year group had had a less than stellar experience of Defence Against the Dark Arts the previous year. In fact, it was both remarkable and a testament to the class’s abilities that they had passed their exams at all, given that they had received next to no education from Gilderoy Lockhart.

As he was taking the register, Remus noticed that the red-haired girl from the train was called Ginny Weasley, and smiled at the memories that surname brought back. He had fought alongside Arthur Weasley during the war, and at the time he and his wife Molly had only had sons. Remus had lost touch with the Weasleys not long after they had had their first daughter, but he knew how much Molly had wanted to raise a girl amongst her family of boys. He really ought to make contact with Arthur and Molly again. Dumbledore seemed determined to bring him back into the world, so he might as well get proactive about it himself, and the Weasleys were some of the best people Remus had ever known.

Turning his attention back to the class, Remus sat down on the edge of his desk and looked around the room, gauging the mood and attitude of his pupils. They seemed wary, almost worried that this new professor would turn out to be as feckless as their last. Well, he would have to do something about that.

 “Now, let’s get started, shall we? I understand that your Professor last year had some rather strange ideas about what you should be taught in this class.” This caused a few smiles and the odd laugh. “Am I right in assuming that he made you read all of his books and then answer questions on them?” Most of the class nodded, a few with looks of disgust on their faces. Remus smiled. “Then you may have learned more than you think you have.”

“What are you on about, Professor?” asked one Gryffindor boy incredulously. “Those books were a lot of rubbish!”

“True, although I would prefer if you didn’t shout out, Billy. A large percentage of Professor Lockhart’s books were made up, but there was the odd bit of factual information about some of the dark creatures, and even an occasional correct spell. They’re actually rather amusing books to read when you know a bit about defensive magic already, and it can be quite entertaining spotting the accurate parts amidst the nonsense. However, they are definitely not textbook material.

“As such, we’re going to cover the usual second year curriculum this year, but I’m also going to use one lesson a week to teach you the things you should have learned last year. If you’re lucky, I may even tell you some stories about what it’s actually like to fight dark creatures.” At this, the class shifted in their seats and looked at Remus with curiosity.

“Have you _really_ fought monsters, Professor?” asked Ginny Weasley with some scepticism. The doubt was no surprise, considering that their previous teacher had made the exact same claim and turned out to be a fraud.

“I have, Ginny,” Remus confirmed in as convincing a tone of voice as he could manage. “Before I became a teacher here, I used to get occasional side-jobs dealing with all manner of dark creatures that had found their way into people’s houses. My stories might not be as entertaining as Professor Lockhart’s, but I can assure you that they will be much more helpful in real life.” The class seemed satisfied by this answer, and their looks of suspicion faded. “Now, I thought I’d use today to ask you a few questions about what you should have learned last year, just so I can figure out what I should be teaching you. It doesn’t matter if you don’t know the answers, and feel free to speak up with anything you can think of, no matter how silly it sounds.”

The rest of the lesson passed by relatively slowly, as Remus was repeatedly faced with silence in answer to his questions. He was careful to reassure the class that this was through no fault of their own, because he knew from his own experience how demoralising it could be to discover that one doesn’t know a lot of things that others think one should. He had spent his first year or two at Hogwarts largely ignorant of a lot of things his friends had taken for granted due to his isolated upbringing, and it had been less than enjoyable to be constantly reminded of this.

However, he was occasionally pleasantly surprised by what the students had picked up on, or indeed looked up for themselves. Several of the Ravenclaw students had clearly done their own research on what they should have been learning, as had the odd Gryffindor. There were some truly wacky answers, however. Lockhart’s teaching has left them with a lot of glaring misconceptions that Remus would have to do his best to rectify over the coming months.

And then, there were the wacky answers from one Luna Lovegood, the blond friend of Ginny’s who had made the comment about wrackspurts in the corridor. The sorts of comments she made couldn’t be attributed simply to Lockhart’s useless curriculum, and a quick bit of mental detective work on Remus’s part ascertained the true reason. He recognised the girl’s surname as also belonging to Xenophilius Lovegood, editor of The Quibbler, a notoriously, well... ‘unique’ magazine. Racking his brains, he remembered hearing that he and his wife had had a baby girl during the final year of the war. The family connection would certainly explain the unusual views and opinions that Luna held.

When the end of the period came, he was able to dismiss the class secure in the knowledge that they would learn quickly in the coming year. They were a bright bunch and, now that he knew what else he had to teach them, they would be able to catch up quickly with where they ought to be.

Satisfied at a first day successfully survived, Remus began to pack up his briefcase, planning to drop past the staff room for the hour or two before dinner. He had promised Hagrid that they would swap stories about their first days as teachers, after all, and he was sure that the gamekeeper would have a lot to say. Hagrid was fond of telling stories, and his first day was bound to be worthy of a great many such tales.

Remus had just turned the corner into the staff room corridor when he heard a great commotion coming from inside. He hurried towards the door, but was briefly held up by the two gargoyles that guarded it.

“Say, weren’t you a student here yourself only a few years back?” asked one.

“I left here fifteen years ago. I’m surprised you remember me,” Remus replied as, although he had made a great many trips to the staff room during his years as a student, the somewhat senile gargoyles had mostly been inanimate at the time. They obviously paid a lot more attention than they let on. He wondered if they had ever figured out the reasons for his repeated visits. “Could you let me in please? I’d like to know what’s going on.” The gargoyles nodded, and the door swung open. Whatever Remus had expected to find inside, it was not the scene that greeted him as he entered the staff room as a teacher for the first time.

Hagrid was sitting on a perilously bowed sofa, blowing his nose into his enormous handkerchief and wiping his red, puffy eyes on his sleeves. Minerva McGonagall was perched next to him, gingerly patting him on one massive forearm, which was clearly all she could reach. All around them, the various other teachers were talking over each other, various expressions of shock or displeasure on their faces. Remus crouched down in front of Hagrid and Minerva.

“Minerva, what’s happened?” he asked, concerned.

“It’s the Malfoy boy,” she said, her expression tight and unhappy. “He was injured by one of Hagrid’s Hippogriffs.”

“’S all my fault!” Hagrid howled suddenly. “I shoulda never let the kids near ‘em!” Remus shook his head emphatically, although he did partially agree with Hagrid’s assessment of the situation. Hippogriffs were notoriously proud creatures. It took very little to provoke one into violence, and he was unsurprised that the third year bully had set one off. However, Hagrid really didn’t need his friends second guessing his decisions at this point, not when he was clearly so upset about the whole thing.

“You couldn’t have known that one of the students would antagonise one of the Hippogriffs. I’m sure you told them to watch what they said. It’s not your fault if they choose to disobey your instructions,” Remus reassured Hagrid, imitating Minerva and patting him on the arm.

“Malfoy’s dad won’t see it tha’ way!” Hagrid sniffed loudly. “An’ Professor Dumbledore’ll prob’ly have to gie me the sack. It was me firs’ day!” With this last, Hagrid dissolved into sobs, and Minerva pulled Remus away to give him some space.

“The headmaster won’t really sack him?” Remus asked, concerned. “Surely he’ll see that it was an accident and that Hagrid is hardly to blame?”

“The headmaster may not have a choice,” Minerva said, tight-lipped. “Lucius Malfoy is one of the school’s governors, and he already has it out for Hagrid after the Chamber of Secrets incident last year.” Remus understood. It had put a severe dent in Malfoy senior’s credibility when Hagrid had been proved entirely innocent of any wrongdoing in the present or indeed the past, especially after all the effort the school governor had put into getting him locked away in Azkaban. Many things had changed since the war, but clearly Lucius Malfoy’s prejudices against half-bloods had remained. “Would you mind remaining here and looking after Hagrid, Remus?” asked Minerva after a few moments had passed. “I need to return to the Headmaster.”

“Of course,” Remus replied, turning his attention to his old friend as Minerva strode purposefully from the room. Taking a long look at the sagging sofa and judging it safe for the moment, he sat down next to Hagrid. The giant groundskeeper had stopped crying for the moment, and was blowing his noise with a remarkably loud trumpeting sound.

“Sorry, Remus. I was goin’ ter ask ye about yer firs’ day an all. It’s jus’... wi’ all this...”

“There’s no need to apologise, Hagrid,” Remus reassured him. “Why don’t I tell you all about it, take your mind off of all this for a while?” Hagrid nodded, managing a slight smile the crinkled the edges of his red, puffy eyes. Glad that his friend had perked up slightly at the possibility of a good story, Remus launched into a detailed description of his first day as a Hogwarts teacher.

He related the tales of his various successful classes, getting amused reactions from Hagrid at his descriptions of the behaviour of certain pupils. Hagrid too had realised the potential for mischief held by Martin Richards and his friends, and commiserated with Remus about the ill-advised timetabling that put Gryffindors and Slytherins into the same classes. He told Remus a few stories of his own about Ginny Weasley and her friend Luna, and burst out laughing when Remus told him that he had declared war on Peeves without the poltergeist’s knowledge.

“If yer still fond of practical jokes, yer gonna love the staff room,” Hagrid said, in something akin to a conspiratorial whisper. “Don’ tell ‘em I told ye, but certain teachers like messin’ wi’ the new staff.”

“I’ll bear that in mind,” Remus chuckled, unsurprised by this revelation. There had been a great many urban legends in his day about what certain teachers had gotten up to during their own student years, and he knew from experience that people seldom fully grew out of a love for practical jokes.

After a period of companionable silence during which Hagrid showed mercifully few signs of an impending lapse back into misery, Remus excused himself with a promise to return later and headed down to the Great Hall for dinner.


End file.
